Zselyke Czégény
Mist covers the forest. It lingers between the enormous trees. There is nothing around to be seen. It is like the whole world is gray, not even a single ray of sunlight reaches down there.
I am running. My eyes are closed… Or maybe they aren’t, but it makes no difference. I see nothing… No, i only see the grayness around.
I don’t know how long I have been running. Nor do I know when I started. But I know I can’t stop. If I do, I will…
I don’t feel any fatigue. At least not yet. Even if i do, I must keep pushing forward.
A branch snaps into my eyes. I yelp in pain but it feels like my voice is being suffocated by the mist around. Everything is dead silent. I reach up to my eye. And I don’t see my hand.
I keep running, never slowing down. I must carry on. Maybe at last I will get out of this place. Maybe I will get to see the other colors as well. I am getting sick of grey. Living like this is maddening.
The fog is getting thicker. I run. No sound can be heard. I still run. I can’t afford to stop.
My breathing becomes ragged as I struggle to keep my pace. My foot stumbles on a protruding root. I reach out, trying to catch myself… and can’t see the abyss right in front of me.
The dense fog hides everything from the watchful eyes, forever silently. Nobody can hear the cries of the lost soul.